Rain is nice. It gives me an excuse to cuddle in my robe, slap on my headset, and spend the day writing.
But sometimes boredom creeps in and my attention span drifts and I find writing a coherent sentence insufferable, and that is when I turn to the shithole that is the internet. Unlike most people I don’t have the “lightening fast” internet speeds Comcast promises their customers. You all hear about Comcast merging with Time Warner? Old news, I know, but I think it got shut down; too much of a “monopoly”. Whatever, America. You are the epitome of Monopoly. And I’m not talking about the game.
I had Comcast once. The internet speeds I would equate to licking your Tootsie Pop until you get to the gooey center. Once you reach the center, your page has loaded. How many licks does it take to get to the center anyway? Anyone ever figure that out? Well it’s a-fucking-lot. That’s right Comcast, I’m calling you out, what you going to do about it? Nothing? That’s what I thought, bitch.
I’ve never told the story about Dharma’s, have I? Well, there’s this health food place in my town called Dharma’s. It’s locally owned. It’s not a chain, it’s not a big business, it serves a lot of vegan and vegetarian foods. It’s quite cute actually. Their original name was McDharma’s until McDonald’s caught of whiff of it and sent them a threatening letter saying they were prepared to take them to court if they didn’t change their name.
How insecure is that? McDonald’s just proved how small their package is, if you catch my drift. They should join the hundreds of men who drive those giant trucks that rise seventy feet off the ground. I mean really. You think a tiny vegan restaurant is a threat to your entire multi-billion dollar murdering franchise? Like anyone outside of our town would even know about McDharma’s? Man, what a bunch of whiny shits. Cowards. Obviously Dharma took the “Mc” part out of their name. They felt threatened. I would have counter-sued for harassment. And then I would put Mc.Dharma’s as my restaurant name and flipped off the C.E.O’s of McDonald’s and their lawyers as I flew out of the courtroom on my hover-board. Fuck you.
I’m calling out McDonald’s and Comcast today. I’m on a roll. Let’s get Viacom in this too, and what the hell, Time Warner too. You’re all a bunch of crooks and fools and liars and thieves and if I ever have a chance to vandalize one of your cars, you better believe I will.
Anyway, enough threats. I was talking about the internet or something, right? Damn brain always firing off on random tangents. No wonder people get tired of listening to me talk; a conversation with me is like running a couple miles.
I use my phone’s “Mobile Hotspot” for internet service so we don’t have to pay. #MetropcsForLife
But it’s unbelievably slow some days. Like today. So sometimes I’m confined to short Youtube video clips, WordPress, or forum sites. You know, like PsychForums. I lurk. I used to lurk as a guest, now I lurk as a member.
There are some interesting people on there. You have the 13 year old’s wondering if they’re schizophrenic because their cat scratched them, then you have the “Antisocial” people who apparently aren’t as true to the diagnosis as the ones on PsychCentral forums (say the PsychCentral users, not me), then you have the people who obsess about the smallest symptom and decide to call themselves OCD, GAD, Bipolar, and Borderline personality all comorbid; at least they label it “probably” or “suspected Dx” (rolls eyes), and last but not least we have the AntiPsych forum, of which I’ve proudly posted. Until people started to just be ridiculous. If you’re going to have reasons to dislike something, don’t be biased about it. That just makes all of your points invalid.
So two things here.
Okay, maybe three.
- If you’re thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, or any kind of teen, you should probably stop freaking out. Unless you’re so depressed that you’re considering suicide or have attempted suicide in the past, or you’re so anxious you can’t walk out of your house, or your hearing things or seeing things or manic, or doing rituals to keep one of your family members from dying, you’re probably fine. There are adults on there who read two sentences of these teens stories and put it in their head that they have a disorder. I hate to play this card but . . . you’re a teenager. Everything is going to suck. Everything is going to feel a million times worse than it is. Sure, I had anxiety and depression as a teenager but excuse me I was homeless and my family environment was (and still is) poisonous. If I didn’t have some issues I’d be a miracle child. If everything else in your life is fine except for the fact that Jimmy asked Sarah to the Prom and not you, than chill. You don’t have depression, you’re just sad.
- Stop calling yourself Antisocial. Antisocial does not literally mean “Not Social”. It’s a personality. Unless you want to be labeled as dangerous, or manipulative, or unremorseful, or violent, or you had Conduct Disorder as a child, I’d suggest you stop.
- Which brings my third point: Stop self-diagnosing. It’s one thing to notice symptoms in yourself. It’s one thing to maybe search them up, see if they fall into a pattern or whatever, and take careful notes about yourself with the fact in mind that you’re probably exaggerating the symptoms now that you know it’s a real “thing”; it’s a whole other thing to label yourself with a disorder. Once you have that label people will see you differently. You’ll see yourself differently. You’re suddenly part of this group stigmatized by society when you probably don’t have to be. There’s nothing exciting about struggling day by day and there’s nothing rewarding about being blamed for societies issues. Mental disorders aren’t there to summarize your behavior because you know the moment you go to your doctor and say “you know Doc, I think I’m feeling a little depressed“, that dude gunna send some drugs your way and now you’re looped into the vicious cycle of jumping back and forth through medications that you might not even need. Coming off of them is going to make you feel like you need them again. And if you don’t know how the brain works that’s exactly what you’re going to think.
- Fourth fucking thing I just thought of right now. Try your hardest not to see a physician for your mental health. I know money is an issue. I have no health insurance. I don’t even have money! But somehow I’m seeing a psychologist. There’s always a way. Your physician will be happy to write a prescription but you think he/she gives a shit how you’ve been feeling? They got twenty other sniveling patients in the waiting room coughing their lungs out, itching from poison oak, or they have a four hour erection from too much Viagra, or they’re bleeding from their eyes and the physicians have to sit and fucking listen to their complaints for fifteen minutes. They don’t have time for your problems. Literally, they don’t have time. It’s not that they don’t want to. The way the system is set up, physicians who aren’t specialists aren’t there to see you for an hour. It’s get in, get out.
Let me tell you a story. One more. It was the summer of my sophomore year. I’d had this horrible, phlemy cough for weeks, all congested in my chest . . . a bunch of weird shit going on. I’ve had this problem before during the summer. Had trouble sleeping because the congestion was so thick in my throat and upper respiratory system. Went to a doctor: he prescribed me Robitussin. Fucking Robitussin.
I didn’t know it was Robitussin until I got to the pharmacy and opened the bag.
I still have that bottle to remind me how stupid some people are. He talked to me for five minutes. Five. Minutes.
I never took that shit. You don’t insult my intelligence like that. I still have a congestion problem, I do have an overproduction of mucus (ewwwww) a lot in my throat, I can feel it even more when I’m anxious, and I read anxiety can cause your throat to spasm and create little mucus lumps in your throat. Do I probably still need to see a doctor about it? Yes. The panic attack that landed me in the hospital started because my congestion had me coughing all night for a day straight. I think I started freaking out about it and my heart pounded and I felt my throat swelling and I thought I had bronchitis and regardless of the fact that it took me two and a half hours in the morning to convince my family to take me to the emergency room (I couldn’t breathe and my vision was fading pretty fast because I was hyperventilating), I got there.
The nurse lady took my heart rate which was about 164 and she said if I don’t start breathing I’m going to get a tingle in my hands and arms and pass out. I started getting the tingle in my hands and arms and freaked out even more. I said “I’m going to pass out.” She said “well, that wouldn’t be smart“.
They did their little chest scan thing with contrast in my veins, found no issues with my heart or anything, and set me on my way with CC’s of Ativan in my veins. I puked twice and passed out on the couch.
There I go off topic again.
My first panic attack was as I watched House. Took me months to gather up to the courage to watch it again.
My point? : Be careful with labels and be extra careful with physicians. And don’t pass out. It’s not smart.